Introspection
by Kila9Nishika
Summary: As the title says, this is introspection on the many characters of the HP Universe, eventually.
1. Sirius Black

**Disclaimer:** I am in no way anyone who owns Harry Potter and surrounding and supporting characters and universe. In fact, my sister stole my set of books, so I don't even have that.

**AN:** Canon until book 5, then, well, for now it is canon, but that is subject to change, depending on what happens next.

And, with no further ado,

* * *

**Introspection: Sirius Black**

Sirius Black was, perhaps, one of the oddest people I ever had the honor of meeting. And I mean that in a good way, really.

Sirius was the only person I ever met who could slack off all the time, bored out of his mind and never studying, and still be in the top ten of every class.

Sirius was the only person I ever met who could get slapped and kissed within the same ten minute period, daily.

He was unique in that he was the type of person who tended to get things right away – if he didn't understand it, there was a strong chance that he never would.

Betrayal was one thing he never really understood. Or, rather, he never understood why anyone _would_ be a traitor. Perhaps that's why it hurt so much when he was thrown into Azkaban, for me. Because my true soul couldn't see how _Sirius_ could ever be a traitor. He just wouldn't do that. Ever.

His Animagus form, the Grim, was always amusing, to me. Sirius is the Dog Star, and Sirius was a Dog Animagus. And I knew that Sirius just loved the shock factor in turning into this great, hulking, bear-sized dog.

But there was always more to his Animagus form than just that. And really, during the war, we should have taken that into consideration. I mean, Sirius was a _dog_. Really. He wore his emotions on his face, laughed at inopportune moments, got ravenously hungry but could then hold one meal for over a day _without_ getting hungry. Sirius was so foolishly loyal that he couldn't comprehend betrayal, so loyal and true that there are times that I wonder why he wasn't a Hufflepuff.

Of course, then I remember how vicious he could be, and realize that he would have scared all of the Hufflepuffs to death within the first week.

It wasn't that Sirius was intentionally cruel. It was that… I don't know how to describe it, precisely. Some people would have said that Sirius was the type of person to be nice to his friends and absolutely evil to his enemies, but that wasn't completely true. When he was thinking coherently, Sirius could be quite merciful.

I personally have a theory about the Black family and inbreeding, and the connection of said inbreeding to the famous quick temper of the Black family. Sirius always had so much trouble staying in control. At times, he would seem to wake, as if from a bad dream, and completely fall apart once he realized what he had done.

I suppose Muggles would have called it a mental disorder, or something. It was almost as if there were two different people inside of one body.

When he was in control, Sirius could be a vast amount of different people, even then. He was a brilliant actor, and always had been. The only thing was, he was never lying, when he was changed personalities. Unlike true actors, once he fell into the role, he completely believed in everything he did. I think that he may have developed this multiple-personality-disorder-thing because his family wanted him to act, to _think_ in one specific way, but he wanted to be different. Or something like that.

And yet, at the root of it all, was the Sirius that I knew both the most and a least. The Sirius who could remember things word for word, but couldn't visualize anything for the world. The Sirius who collapsed on the floor, gasping and heaving without quite sobbing, hysterical, as he attempted to explain without words just how horrified he was. The Sirius who was nearly color-blind, and had to arrange his clothing in order from darkest red to deepest black. The Sirius who could so eloquently say nothing at all, and then stumble over three words for an hour.

I feared, when he escaped from Azkaban, that some part of him, some vital part of what made Sirius into _Sirius_ would be missing, broken. And then, seeing him in the Shrieking Shack, like a starving feral dog – all growl and ferocity with fear hidden deep within those silver-grey eyes. And those rags, hanging off of his body so badly that his ribs were easily visible…

Not to mention that tattoo that he never, _never_ explained to anyone, the one that was a simple circle with a teardrop inside.

And we were going to free him –

But it was too late, and that _traitor_, Pettigrew – he had escaped.

When I next saw Sirius, I was just as appalled by his physical condition as I had been before. I could remember quite clearly, how handsome he had always been. But now… there was something raw about him, something that went beyond the physical – which was bad enough, all skin and bones.

And then, then I saw behind the walls that he had been desperately building up around himself. It was worse, and better, than I could have dreamed.

Azkaban had melded his many sides into something raw, shaky, and unstable. But it was _Sirius_. My Sirius. And with every day that I could hold him up, he became a little steadier, a little clearer. It was the hardest thing in the world, keeping Sirius from exploding into hundreds of tiny pieces, but it was also something that I knew was the _only_ thing I could have done.

He looked less like a feral dog, less starved, and more like the wild, handsome,_ young_ man he had been. It lit the world, and filled my heart with joy, to see him and see Sirius again, and not a collapsing, broken man.

There were setbacks, there always were. I remember, after one Order meeting, Snape taunting Sirius about being incapable of keeping Harry safe – and something else, something I didn't catch.

Sirius' eyes had flared, in that way that they always had before his temper blew sky high, and he had said something icy and cold, his eyes like chips of ice. Snape had laughed, and then, Sirius had clenched a fist, and Snape was suffocating.

Dumbledore stopped it. He always did. And after I had guided Sirius upstairs, he fell apart, and I saw another piece fall into place, as he soaked my only shirt without patches with tears.

The way Sirius clung to Harry… Molly Weasley misunderstood it, she thought that he viewed Harry as James reborn. He didn't.

Sirius had always been rough with James, making crude jokes and whacking him on the back, shoulders, head… Harry was different.

Sirius saw Harry as his own child, he told me once, after he struggled to contain his anger at what Molly Weasley had said _this_ time. It was painful, though, for Sirius. I could see it, but I don't think anyone else really did. How hard is it, to one day be dancing around the house to "Pockmarked Pixies," and the next day, realize that the silly toddler you were playing with is no longer little "Hay-ay," but Harry Potter, a teenager with the soul of an old and cynical man?

Sirius was always so dedicated, so fiercely loyal and faithful to Harry. I'm not sure anybody really understood just how much Sirius needed Harry. Harry was his baby, his hope, the only person he lived for. It was so simple to see, really.

Harry went back to Hogwarts, though, and Sirius was stuck in 12 Grimmauld Place, and he _hated_ being trapped _anywhere_ – caged wolves got mad, you know? It was that much worse, that it was his family's old house, the house that he had run from when he was fifteen.

After an Order meeting, sometime before Christmas, I was surprised to see Sirius being abnormally cold to his cousin, Nymphadora. Normally, she was one of the few who could make him cheerful, along with Harry and occasionally the Weasley Twins.

Once the house was empty once more, I tried to confront him about the way he had treated Nymphadora.

Apparently, she was flirting with me. _Me_, ugly old man I am. Of course, when I said that, Sirius got angry. He slapped me, and told me to shut up. Then he said that he might be colorblind, but I was fully blind.

Obviously, I was missing something.

Standing there, facing each other in the master bedroom of 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius told me what his tattoo meant.

A circle, with a tear. A tear for the pain that he felt, knowing he couldn't help me. A circle, for the full moon.

I gaped.

And then he kissed me. _ME_. And Merlin, I sound like a teenager, but –

_Sirius kissed me._

Yes, Sirius was definitely one of the oddest people I ever had the honor of meeting.

And I love him.

* * *

**AN:** Bad Remus. Bad Remus. You ran away with what I wanted you to say! What ever happened to "follow the script?" Oh, well, for something that totally trailed off subject and got too caught up in the head of Remus Lupin, what do you think?

Please Review!


	2. Harry Potter

**Disclaimer:** I am in no way anyone who owns Harry Potter and surrounding and supporting characters and universe. In fact, my sister stole my set of books, so I don't even have that.

**AN:** Canon until book 5, then, well, my imagination is a little wild at times...

And, with no further ado,

* * *

**Introspection: Harry Potter**

I always thought that I knew Harry Potter. Then again, I would bet that most people think that. But, the thing is, I _really_ thought that.

I thought I knew him, I thought I understood what went on behind those green orbs.

I was wrong.

Not only was I wrong, but I was arrogant beyond belief. To think that I knew how he felt, how he thought?

I was an idiot.

On the outside, Harry is rather disappointing. One would expect, what with his being the Wizarding Hero and everything, that he would be handsome, tall, and strong. Truthfully?

Truthfully, Harry had always been short. _Really_ short. He also had this way of looking somewhat scrawny, like he didn't get enough to eat.

It was his hair, I think, and his eyes, that fooled people into thinking that he was handsome. Harry always had that mop of hair that just _begged_ for someone to tame it. And those _eyes_. Well. It's easy to see why Lily Evans was considered the most beautiful Head Girl in decades.

For years, everyone thought we were dating. It grew frustrating, after a while, telling people that we were _just friends_. Really. I mean, Harry was unmotivated, wouldn't stand up for himself, and – well – shorter than me. Why would I go out with a boy who acted like a shy little brother?

After Sirius died, all of the shaky attempts at friendship between Harry and just about everyone just fell through like a toothpick bridge across the Thames in a hurricane.

I was rather startled to realize just how _few_ friends Harry had. It was then, I think, that I began to wonder about Harry. Why wasn't he answering our letters? Why were the few letters he wrote so stilted?

And then I looked at his old letters, and I realized how stilted they were as well. It was almost as if Harry had never written a letter before. After third year, his letters became a bit smoother, but – why didn't Harry know how to write a letter?

Over that summer, Ron and I commiserated over the lack of response from Harry, and how the Order still wasn't telling us _anything_.

I was so busy complaining over Harry's reticence, that I didn't realize that I had only sent two letters the whole summer.

When Harry was finally brought to Grimmauld Place, I was stunned. Maybe it was because it was the first time I had seen him in robes that weren't school robes since fourth year. I don't know. But I looked at Harry, in Sirius' old dress robes, and I realized – he was _tiny_. Harry was shorter than _Ginny_, and his hair threatened to overwhelm his face.

He never lifted his eyes, not the entire rest of the summer. He didn't say a word, either. Not one, not even at Sirius' will reading.

It was like a bucket of cold water in the face, when he spoke up on the train, as if he had not just spent the last two weeks with Ron and me.

"Good summer?"

I was furious, furious that he would ignore us like that and then act as if he had done nothing wrong.

Ron reacted by yelling.

I gave him the silent treatment.

The door to the compartment opened once, twice – Luna and Neville. Luna seated herself beside Harry, and took his tiny hand, her strange blue-silver eyes soft and distant.

Malfoy stopped by, as usual, but Harry didn't react. Nothing. As if Malfoy wasn't maligning Harry's mother, father, grandparents, and their possible habits.

But then Malfoy mentioned Sirius' death, in that sneering way of his – something about dirty mutts, and how they should be put down before they track mud everywhere, and how it was only too good that a certain disgusting dog was gone.

Harry lifted his head, and his eyes flared. I swear, to this day, that the compartment could have been lit with the light from those glowing green orbs.

Malfoy flew out of the compartment, with the words "I will not malign my betters" written on his forehead. He was also wearing a tutu.

Harry said nothing and did nothing for the rest of the ride.

Two days into the school year, Harry was just as distant as before. It didn't make sense, why was he ignoring us? I had even given up on the silent treatment, but he continued to act as if he couldn't see anyone but himself.

Our Defense Teacher was a very capable Auror, that year. So, when Luna passed the word that any who wished could rejoin the DA, I turned her down. After all, the point of the DA was to teach when we had no teacher, right?

Ron was the Quidditch Captain that year, and I can still remember the first game that Gryffindor won, that year. He can soaring down, gave me a triumphant grin, and kissed me.

That evening, on prefects' rounds, we kissed some more. I was so thrilled that someone had finally noticed that I was a girl.

I never noticed Harry vanish from the party, and I never noticed Harry drifting away.

In hindsight, I realize that Harry, who had so much attention, wanted none. I realize that Harry wanted _emotion_, not fame. And, perhaps – perhaps that is where everyone failed him.

I didn't notice anything wrong until I realized that I was second in every class but Potions and Herbology – in Herbology, I was third, and in Potions, I was _fourth_.

Somehow, Harry had climbed to the top of every class, even _Potions_, the class taught by a man who _despised _Harry. Oh, except Herbology. In Herbology, Harry was second to Neville Longbottom.

I was doing my prefects' rounds with Ron, one night in October, when we heard noises in the library. Startled, we entered and looked around. What I saw was something that I never expected to see.

Invisibility Cloak pooled on the floor, Harry was intertwined with Luna Lovegood, pressing her up against a bookcase. He stood on tiptoe, Luna was taller than he, and his face looked to be magnetically attached to Luna's face. I could feel my entire body flush, watching them kiss. There was something so much more _intimate_ about the way they were kissing, than what Ron and I did.

When Luna made a quiet moaning noise and tossed Harry's tie on the floor, I whirled around and dragged Ron out of the library. Even as perfect-prefect as I could be, there was _no way_ I was going to try and interrupt them.

It felt weird, scolding Harry about having not finished his essays, when that image kept popping into my head. What had they done after Ron and I had left? What if they had…? No. I wouldn't think about Harry doing – _that_.

When Harry lost his temper and left the common room one afternoon, I was confused. I had always fussed after his homework, hadn't I?

Neville had looked up from Ginny's neck, (where he was making an intimate map of her freckles,) and said, in that bland and yet disapproving voice –

"You're losing him."

I didn't understand.

Halloween was a Hogsmeade Weekend, and my first _ever_ date. (Aside from the Yule Ball, which doesn't really count.)

Hogsmeade was attacked. I tried my best to protect the younger students, but I was shocked to see how many of them were _fighting back_. And some of them… some of them had _Portkeys_. They seemed to be popping in and out of the battle, grabbing the injured and hightailing out of there.

A close look at one of the Portkeys revealed them to be small gold medallions, carve with two simple Runes – Sowilo on one side, Elhaz on the other. Victory and protection.

Just as suddenly as it began, the battle was over. I looked around, suddenly weary, just as Aurors and teachers began to Apparate in.

On his knees, tears streaming down his face, was Harry. He had lost his glasses at some point, and his face was peppered with tiny bleeding cuts. A gash on his cheek spilled blood like a river, and his tears mixed with the red to smear his face.

He knelt before a small body, and I was shocked to see that it was a little girl of indeterminate age. An innocent had died.

Stumbling from somewhere else in the village, Luna wiped some blood off of her face, accidentally getting into her hair. Gently, she rested one hand on his shoulder, and murmured something I couldn't hear.

At that moment, another piece of the puzzle fell into place. _He takes responsibility for every injury, every death_, I realized. _How many visions, how many moments of agony has he decided are his fault?_

After that day, I stopped pestering Harry about his homework. I tried to get him to talk about the visions he had, about the guilt he felt.

He wouldn't open up. It was so _frustrating_, because we were best friends, and best friends did this type of thing for each other, didn't they?

Harry stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas, despite an invitation from the Weasleys.

I walked into the middle of a fight about halfway past Easter. Malfoy and his cronies had decided to attack a little Hufflepuff first year.

I was about to defend her, when the little girl suddenly lifted her chin and_ disarmed Malfoy_. She then began dueling with one of the older Slytherins – a Montague, I think – while carefully avoiding attacks from Crabbe, Goyle, or Parkinson.

Within moments, five Ravenclaw third years and two Slytherin second years burst out of nowhere, and joined the fray. Before I could open my mouth to interfere and take points, Malfoy and company were stunned, Petrified, bound, and hung upside-down from the railing of one of the staircases. I blinked, and the ragtag group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws dispersed, leaving only two behind as guards for the Hufflepuff girl as she made her way back to the Hufflepuff common room.

It was afterward, while examining the memory, that I realized something. They all wore the same necklaces around their necks – a gold medallion with Sowio on one side and Elhaz on the other.

The school year ended. Despite all of our attempts, Harry refused to speak to either myself or Ron.

He returned to Grimmauld Place in August skinnier than ever. He showed no emotion, except on the second-to-last day of the summer, when Dumbledore came to visit. While there, Dumbledore informed us gravely that Remus Lupin had been ill for the past year, and, rather than simply die, Remus had found a group of Death Eaters and blown himself up. He'd left everything to Harry.

That was the first time since Halloween that I had really seen Harry emotional. His eyes blazed, and tears streamed down his face. Light seemed to flare around him for a moment, and the air warped, somehow. And then, Harry just said four words.

"He's with Sirius, now."

And then, Harry fled the room, and did not return to the lower levels of Grimmauld Place for the rest of vacation.

Luna wasn't on the train to Hogwarts. Harry spent the entire ride pacing the corridors. Nobody, not even Malfoy, dared to talk to him.

We had barely seated ourselves in the Great Hall for the Sorting when Pandemonium with a Capital P erupted.

Death Eaters.

The entire Hall exploded into chaos. Teachers and students and Death Eaters were all fighting, spells flying everywhere, I saw Harry dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange and Luna fighting (when had she gotten there?) Rodulphus and Rabastan at the same time.

Then, a voice that sent chills up and down my spine, that made me want to cower and cry, spoke.

"Harry Potter."

Voldemort had entered Hogwarts.

There were no words to describe the duel. Spells that I had never heard of were flying back and forth, Harry had a sword in his hand (when had he gotten that?) and blood was everywhere, and the floor was cracked and burning, and –

Harry's wand was hit with a Reducto, while his left hand was hit with a well-thrown _Diffindo_. Harry was wandless and swordless.

Voldemort had Harry at his mercy, and I was terrified, but I had to focus, fighting Malfoy and attempting to protect the new first years – I was Head Girl, after all.

Harry was not completely defeated, someone shouted, and Harry was fighting Voldemort _wandlessly_.

Luna killed Lucius Malfoy and the Lestrange brothers, Neville killed Bellatrix, and Ginny blew up someone who looked suspiciously like Umbridge. I saw a second year wearing a gold medallion systematically take down Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, three Montagues, Crabbe, and Goyle.

An explosion of blue light stopped all of the fighting, and suddenly, all eyes were focused on the main duel – Harry and Voldemort.

Harry hissed something – Parseltongue, I thought – and then, green light enveloped both fighters, and Voldemort screamed. Streams of purple light flowed in every direction, and the green light turned silver.

Silence.

Voldemort fell, as if in slow motion.

The Death Eaters that were still alive collapsed.

Harry dropped to his knees, and smiled, his eyes blank and unseeing.

"_HARRY!_"

Sprinting through the carnage, bleeding from a split lip and with a nasty black eye, Luna made a beeline for Harry, sprawling herself beside him. Tears streaking down her face and spotting Harry's bloody robes, Luna, combed her fingers through Harry's hair.

Harry blinked twice, and murmured something to her. He clasped her hand, and then fell still. Luna's eyes filled with tears, and she tilted her head toward the ceiling in a silent scream. The expression on her face was pure agony, something that every person there will never forget.

She never smiled in public again.

At Harry's funeral, I saw a ring on her finger. She wore a plain black dress, and a gold necklace with a medallion. In her arms, she held a tiny baby swathed in black.

I never realized, until it was too late, that Harry had needed someone like Luna. Someone who could quietly support him, someone who could bring shadows into darkness, as opposed to blinding light. Someone to bring silence into a cacophony of agonized screams.

When a tiny girl with blonde hair and green eyes came to Hogwarts eleven years to the day later, I swore that I would do better. For Lily Selene Potter, I would do what I had not done for her father.

* * *

**AN:** I thought that this one would be _easier_ to write! Now Hermione has to run away with the script? Oh, Merlin help me!

**AN2:** For those of you artists out there, I giving a plea to you talented people - please, either the Harry-Luna kiss scene, or Luna when Harry has just died. Or Luna at the funeral. This is merely a request, because I have seen so many talented, brilliant people, and I would loved a said piece of art. If you have made one, please email it to me. I will put a link on my profile!

REVIEWS PLEASE!


	3. Remus Lupin

**Disclaimer:** I am in no way anyone who owns Harry Potter and surrounding and supporting characters and universe. In fact, my sister stole my set of books, so I don't even have that.

**AN: I am alive! To anyone who readsany of my other stories, I am AT WORK on them. There will be updates arriving, hopefully before July 4th. (Hopefully) In the meanwhile... **Canon until book 5, then, well, for now it is canon, but that is subject to change, depending on what happens next.

And, with no further ado,

* * *

**Introspection: Remus Lupin**

The first thing that he ever said to me was sorry. Not that it was actually his fault, the silly thickhead. There I went, running about heedlessly in the way of young children, and tumbled head-over-heels into a spindly toothpick-and-straw boy with a huge trunk.

Being a polite girl, I, of course, offered to aid him with his trunk. I helped him to a compartment, and got his name – Remus Lupin. Then I, silly child of eleven that I was, ran off in search of my first friend, who lay in wait someplace on the train.

The next I saw him, he was sandwiched between two other boys, both of them possessing black hair. I watched in anger as first one, then the other, insulted my best friend, and waited for Remus to speak up.

But he didn't.

Quite angry, I left him alone with the two strange boys, this _Potter _and _Black_.

At the Sorting, of course all of us were frightened – who isn't afraid of the unknown fate? I watched as Black was Sorted into Gryffindor, to his shock, (and, I think, a bit of horror,) and I was placed at the same table. A nice enough girl named Marlene sat beside me, and a boy named Frank was Sorted into Hufflepuff, before Remus sat on the stool.

His gaze flicked to Black, and I should have realized that the moment, that moment, was a turning of fate. Black, ever the cocky one, had dropped his cloak carelessly over the side of the seat beside him – or so I had thought. But now, he moved it, and waved at Remus, patting the empty seat.

And the Hat shouted Gryffindor.

So we grew up together, in the same House. Lions all tumbled together into classes with Eagles and Badgers and Snakes. I struggled to maintain my friendship with my beloved Severus, but he was a Slytherin, and I a Gryffindor. I made friends with my dorm-mates – Theresa O'Connor, Marlene McKinnon, and Mary Southwood. I even made a tentative friendship with a Ravenclaw named Alice.

But mostly I watched the boys in my House and Year.

Of the boys, Remus was the only tolerable one. He was quiet and sweet, and rule-abiding, just like me. But he let those horrid boys walk all over him, and I couldn't stand for that. So we were partners in classes, but not outside – I did Potions for him, he was dismal, and he did Astronomy for me, I was dismal.

Of course, back then I was too silly to notice how he always knew the Astronomy so perfectly – Orion and Andromeda and Regulus and Leo and Pisces and Scorpius and Vega and Canopus and Pollux and Alphard –

And Sirius.

But he saw right through me – and my love of potions. He knew that I liked them because anyone could study them anywhere, and that the Underage Restriction didn't apply to them, and –

That Severus liked them.

And we grew. Potter grew more insufferable and more insufferable, and Black went mad, and Pettigrew grew fatter, and Alice fell in love, and Marlene got a crush, and Mary lost her virginity –

And Remus remained, solemn and friendly, quiet and careful. In fifth year, he and I were the prefects chosen, but while my friends cheered for me, his moaned with despair.

"My _mahtava, mav'rik_ Moony, you shall be the death of me!" Black announced dramatically one day.

It took me months to figure out what he meant. _My wondrous, brilliant Moony._ Who knew that Black knew Finnish and Hebrew?

In the beginning of sixth year, something happened. I'm not sure what, but whatever it was, it solidified the hatred between the group of boys known as the Marauders and Severus Snape. By that time, Snape had called me the worst name possible – Mudblood – and our friendship had died a horrible death.

Late sixth year, my grades were the best they had ever been. I was the best of the best, and even had a boyfriend – the grandson of the Minister, Jonathan Bagnold. I was a rising star, and I felt that nothing could hold me down. My gaze narrowed. I didn't see the agonies of the sixth year boys.

Later, while helping Madam Pomfrey after I had graduated, I discovered in her files that Sirius Black had attempted suicide four times, and Remus Lupin had stopped him each time.

I discovered that Sirius Black had tried to erase his mind eight times, and Remus Lupin had stopped him each time.

I discovered that Peter Pettigrew had nearly died from a Slytherin prank poisoning, and Remus Lupin had saved his life.

I discovered that James Potter, at the end of the year, attempted to turn himself into a Muggle. On purpose. And nearly succeeded.

But Remus Lupin had saved him.

All this, Remus Lupin did, while I imitated a puddle on a hot day.

In seventh year, along with the horrifying discovery that James Potter had made Head Boy, I learned that the Potter _family_ was gone. James Potter was an orphan. He had been an orphan since May Day, 1977 – four whole months before.

And I hadn't noticed.

They were closer, then. All four of them dropped their girlfriends, dropped serious flirting, dropped everything except each other. They were intense, three blazing lights orbiting the sun. Peter, the meteor, Sirius, the burning planet, and Remus, the calm, steady moon.

So necessary, but so overlooked. And I was one with the masses, not seeing how much Remus Lupin did.

I fell in love with the new James Potter. He was stern, solemn, and a bit playful. But mostly, he was intense. He consulted Remus all the time, that I could see, but leaned on Sirius the most. They were four, they were one.

There was a month, late January to late February, that they seemed to be arguing over something.

Then, on March 1st, James Potter asked me out.

And I said yes.

Thinking back, I realize – Lupin was always just around the corner, on all of our dates, sitting casually with Black, occasionally slapping him across the head.

In 1978, James and I got married – Black was best man; I argued for Remus to be, I had always gotten along better with the ridiculously tall man.

But Remus, for whatever reason, insisted that he could not. So I had Marlene as my Maid of Honor, and Alice and Theresa as bridesmaids. Mary was dead.

It all grew dark so quickly. Remus and Sirius were our rays of light. They kept James' spirits up, and through him, mine. I was pregnant, suddenly, although it was only 1979 –

But Dumbledore kept assigning Remus more and more and more, until we never saw him, and Sirius was turning into the saddest dog I had ever seen.

When Remus appeared on our doorstep looking like Jörmungandr had chewed him up and spat him out, I found out the Marauders' greatest secret. Remus was a werewolf, and my husband and his friends were dancing the razor wire to Azkaban.

So, of course, I patched Remus up. Never seeing the desperation written in his eyes, or the way he grabbed at James and Peter and Sirius, as if they might disappear.

I did the most selfish thing in my life, only a month later. I found a letter, addressed to another, and I opened it.

I read it.

And I kept it.

I should have given it to the addressee.

To Remus.

My son was born on the 31st of July, and by then, Remus was thinner than Notus. His eyes were bright with something I didn't recognize until much too late. Desperation.

But he gave a gift, for my little Harry, a lovely little stuffed wolf, to run with Sirius' gift of a stuffed dog.

On October 30, he sent one last letter, via Sirius. It was blank.

But the next night, whilst I carried Harry and fled up the stairs, words melted across the parchment.

_The Room is the Third Door Past the Bathroom_.

A door appeared – the playroom. How had I forgotten its existence?

I forgot how much easier it is to place a room under the Fidelius, than a house.

I ran in, and set Harry on the floor as I dove for the Floo Powder.

But I dropped the parchment in the hall, Remus' last attempt to save us within Voldemort's reach.

I pleaded with Voldemort, to leave my son. As I did so, I felt something gathering, something growing.

Then – those words. A flash of green.

My spirit watched, for mere moments, as history unfolded. He attempted to kill my son.

Spiderwebs of light crawled about the room, twining around my Harry. I recognized Remus' incredible ability and endeavor at last.

A Blood Rite. Powerfully against the law, and older than Stonehenge.

My son survived, and I passed on.

But Remus Lupin, the man who, if what I suspected was true, saved the world –

Remus Lupin survived.

And my last thoughts –

_I should have given Remus the letter_.

**The Letter:**

_My Dearest Moony,_

_I am undoubtedly the most cowardly Gryffindor ever. After ten years of being in love, you would think that a person could gather the courage to say something, right?_

_Ah. Well. It near broke my heart, to see what Dumbledore's mission did to you. I knew, right then, that I had to tell you. But how?_

_So, obviously, I asked our Resident Love Expert – AKA the oh-so-lovely Andromeda Tonks._

_She recommended a letter._

_So, yeah. A letter. What do I say? How do I describe how fascinating I find you golden eyes, and how mesmerizing your lovely smooth voice is? How do I attempt to write about my endless curiosity over whether our lips can meet if you tilt your head down, and I stand on tiptoe?_

_How do I explain that I want to pamper you until those ribs aren't visible, and find every last secret crevice that ever ached to be touched?_

_Oh dear. I hope I haven't come off like a pervert, or weird and James-Potteresque-stalkerish. Because, I'm not._

_Well, I don't think so, anyway. But I know that you like old shoes and shirts missing the top button, and you think it's funny when snotty officials make fools of themselves. I know that you somehow always get ink on your face when you write, even when you're using a muggle pencil. I know that your favorite trousers are utterly hem-less, due to your ridiculous growth spurt in our seventh year. I know that you like chocolate more than anyone but Lily, and that you put blueberries in your porridge when you think nobody's looking._

_And you like chamomile tea with a peppermint leaf in it, especially with a huge chunk of Honeydukes' Darkest Chocolate._

_And I'm now scrunched at the bottom of the paper, so I'll write the words I've never had the courage to verbalize (look at what you've done to my vocabulary! __**Verbalize**__.)_

_I love you._

_I love you, Remus Lupin._

_Yours forever, even if you want to get rid of me,_

_Sirius Orion Black, AKA Padfoot _Σ

* * *

**AN:** Wah! Lily, you were supposed to jabber about Remus, not come to life and steal his happiness like that! Oh, well. R E V I E W P L E A S E

In Hebrew: _Mashuv, B'vakasha_

* * *

Mahtava is Finnish for awesome, or wondrous, or beautiful.

Mav'rik is Hebrew for brilliant.

Jörmungandr is the Norse World Serpent, in whose coils lies the fate of the end of the world.

Notus was the Greek South Wind, generally thought to be hot and without any fruits or wealth. Curiously, it was associated with the rise of Sirius.


	4. Luna Lovegood

**Disclaimer:** I am in no way anyone who owns Harry Potter and surrounding and supporting characters and universe. In fact, my sister stole my set of books, so I don't even have that.

**AN: I am alive! To anyone who reads any of my other stories, I am AT WORK on them. There will be updates arriving, hopefully before July 4th. (Hopefully) In the meanwhile... **Canon until book 5, then, well, for now it is canon, but that is subject to change, depending on what happens next.

And, with no further ado,

* * *

**Introspection: Luna Lovegood**

I grew up on the furthermost edge of society. Most children, from what I have managed to deduce, would resent their parents for that.

But I did not, would not, and never would. Oh, there were times that I wondered, and times that I knew that I had missed chances due to the way I had grown up.

But that didn't change my pride in my life, and in the person who defined my life.

My mother cared for me with a devotion that none could match. She was the one who ensured that I ate my vegetables, and that I remembered to bring a cloak before I headed to the Longbottoms.

But, for some reason, there were always people from the Ministry turning up, trying to take me away from her. It was at the tender age of four, that I realized my job in life – to protect my mother from the Ministry of Magic.

In the way that most children did, I thought that my mother had always been a mother, just like Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom had surely always been married.

My best friends, Sirius and Remus Longbottom, were the first ones to enlighten me on the outside world. Despite their being two entire years younger than me, they tended to know more about things than I did. I ascribed that to being the nephews of the ever-famous Weasley Twins.

On my first overnight with them at my house, I was introduced to the many unique aspects of my life.

o

"Lily," Remus began, his brow furrowed. "Why do you set and clear the table all the time? I mean, I can understand once in a while, but…"

I shrugged. "Mum always sets an extra seat by accident, so I just set instead."

o

"Lils, why's that room locked?" Sirius asked, after fruitlessly tugging at the handle for near ten minutes.

I pulled him away from the door. "Mum goes into fits, if that door's open. So I keep it locked."

o

"Lily, it's time to say goodnight to your father," my mother said, setting her book on the coffee table.

I looked up from the three-way game of chess we were playing, and grabbed my cloak. "C'mon, guys."

I didn't miss Remus whispering to Sirius, "I thought she didn't have a father?"

When we went outside, Remus and Sirius both stopped short in confusion, but I waved them on. Tis was my special time with Dad, before bed.

We stopped in front of a pure white tombstone, with a single emerald set into the top-center.

_Harry James Potter_

_July 31, 1980 - September 1, 1997_

"_Call no man happy till he is dead" – Aeschylus_

o

When I was nine, the Aurors knocked down the door, and took my mum.

"No!" I screamed. "Stop it! She's my _MUM_!" Tears streamed down my face, clogging my throat and nose.

I ran to the fireplace, and threw a handful of Floo Powder. "Phoenix Rising!"

The Longbottom home came into view. I tumbled out, my vision blurred by the unchecked tears.

"Lily? Lily, sweetheart, what happened?"

Sniffing, I looked up at Aunt Ginny. "Th-They took Mummy away, Aunt Ginny. They took her away." The rest of what I attempted to say was incomprehensible.

Aunt Ginny's face darkened with anger. "Curl up on the sofa, love, and Dobby will make you some hot cocoa, alright?"

I shook my head. "What about M-M-Mummy? Is she going to be okay?"

Aunt Ginny steered me to the sofa, and Dobby popped in with a mug of hot cocoa. "She will be," she said firmly. "I promise you, Lily Selene Potter, your mother will be fine."

Pushing away my tears with the heel of my hand, I waited as Aunt Ginny pulled out a necklace, and made it glow. Sipping my cocoa, I couldn't help but continue to cry.

A door slammed upstairs, and Uncle Neville came dashing down the stairs, his robes half-tied and his tie flapping funny. "Gin?" Remus and Sirius crept down behind their father.

Aunt Ginny slapped something into Uncle Neville's hands, and he vanished with a swirly pop.

"Mum!" "Mum!"

"What's going on?"

_Crack_! "Ginny, what's wrong?"

I stared in shock at the woman in the muggle business suit, as Aunt Ginny began talking at a mile a minute.

"That Idiot has gone and pushed through that ridiculous restraining order again, Daph. Nev went out to stall, and I sent out the call to –"

_Crack! Crack! Crack!_

"Ginny, what –"

"Longbottom, what's going on?"

"Gin –"

"Ginny –"

Aunt Ginny glared at Remus and Sirius. "Take Lily up to Dora's room," she ordered. "Stay there. Use the emergency Portkey if Ministry Officials turn up."

Wide eyed, Remus and Sirius dragged me upstairs. At the landing, I stopped and glared at them.

"Guys," I hissed. "I wanted to hear what was happening to my mum!"

Remus winked. "We have a secret eavesdropping hole. Follow us."

I followed them to a small room outside of their sister Dora's room. In the corner, there was a small hole – which, I realized, carried the voices from downstairs.

"_Ginny, what's going on?"_

_Aunt Ginny cleared her throat. "Alright, Vanguard, listen up. Moron Flint somehow managed to push through that trial and restraining order on Luna."_

"_What!"_

"_That _!"_

"_How dare he!"_

"_A-hem!" Aunt Ginny slammed her hands into something – probably the dining-room table. "Nev is stalling, and Daphne is doing backup just in case we need to overturn the stupid Wizengamot. Hannah, we need you to spread the word that Harry Potter's widow has been kidnapped by the Ministry. Trace, we need interference at Hogwarts. Gred and Forge, help Tracey."_

"_Right."_

"_Ginny, should I –?"_

"_Yes. Ernie, Justin, pull up every barrister dead stop. Angelina, Alicia, Katie, the Quidditch network. Rosie and Jennifer, we need every muggleborn who left Wizarding Britain in on this within as short a time as possible. Seamus, Jack, Colin, we need to rouse up as many Aurors as possible."_

The sounds of lots of people Apparating made all three of us think that the meeting must have been over. I was sniffling again. What if mum went to Azkaban? She was so frail, and so gentle. Surely, the Dementors would eat her for breakfast!

Suddenly, a quiet voice startled me back to eavesdropping.

"_Ginny, what about us?"_

_Aunt Ginny sighed. "Natalie, Euan, Romilda, Kenneth, Dennis. Parvati and Padma, Lavender, Tricia, Megan. You guys need to work with Susan."_

"_Me?"_

_Another sigh. "Su, you're the only one of us with access to the floor-plan of Azkaban and the Ministry Vaults. I need an invasion plan, and soon."_

_The lady named Susan gasped. "You don't think that they'll do a repeat of the Black Affair?"_

_Aunt Ginny made a strange sound that resembled a sob. "Unfortunately for little Lily, that's exactly what I think."_

o

The entire thing, thankfully, was over by the time I woke up the next morning. My mum had returned, sickly and pale-looking, and quieter than ever, but still my mum.

I observed my mum more than ever. She was always quiet, talking to things that nobody could see, and ignoring things that were there. I knew very little about my mum from before I was born, only that she used to wear Butterbeer cork necklaces, and that she had been deeply in love with my dad.

I knew that Uncle Neville and Aunt Ginny were really Mum's only friends, and that everyone else was her sort-of-friends. And I knew that Endy, that is Endymion Harris Weasley, was sort-of named after my mum and dad.

There was short time, when I was ten, that I was afraid that people at Hogwarts would make fun of me. At that point, I knew that my mother was a bit of a public laughingstock, and that the government thought that she needed to go to St. Mungo's.

I was a bit ashamed, I suppose, that I had to lead my mother about Diagon Alley, because she had the tendency to stand in one place for hours, without me.

Kids giggled, and whispered, when we walked by. I was proud, and I knew it, but that didn't stop me from feeling the slightest little bit of insecurity. What if everyone was right? What if my mum _was_ crazy? Would I be left all alone?

I received my Hogwarts letter with very little fuss. It was addressed to Lily Lovegood-Potter, the Second-Largest Bedroom, Number Three, Godric's Hollow.

We went to Diagon Alley with Aunt Ginny and her brothers, the famous Weasley Twins. The eldest son of the Weasleys, Endy, was going to be in my year.

I peeked at Endy out of the corners of my eyes. He was really different from everyone else in the Weasley family. He had the darkest eyes, and the blackest hair, but his skin was as freckly as Aunt Ginny's skin.

"Hey."

I jumped. I'd never actually heard my older 'cousin' talk. "H-Hello."

He smiled. "You're Lily Selene, right?"

I nodded.

"What House do you want to be in?"

I tilted my head to the side. "I don't know. Mum was in Ravenclaw."

Endy grinned at me. "I know. My Dad and Mum were both Gryffindors, though, and so was your dad."

I stopped. "You knew my dad? How? You're the same age as me!"

Endy shook his head. "I'm nearly a year older'n you, Lily. I met your dad a bit, but I don't really remember much. I have some photos, though, if you want to see them."

My eyes widened. "Could I? Mum always cries if I ask about Dad."

Endy shrugged. "I dunno, your mum never wanted to talk to me much, but word is that she misses your Dad more than anybody in the world."

I grimaced. "Yeah, I have to make sure that Mum remembers to take care of herself. I don't know how she'll deal with September First this year, without me."

Endy patted my shoulder. "I'm sure Aunt Ginny and –"

A loud crash interrupted what he was about to say. In a flash, Uncles Fred and George, and Aunt Ginny, all had their wands out. Mum stood still, as if in a daze.

A bunch of grey-cloaked people had Apparated into the middle of the Alley, shouting and throwing curses.

Uncle Neville came out of one of the shops, and grabbed Endy, Apparating out. He hadn't seen me, because I was standing behind Mum.

I yanked on Mum's limp hands. "Mum," I pleaded. "Mum, pay attention! There's an attack!"

There was a loud boom, and the ground jumped underneath me. I flew to the side, and made a startled cry. The cobblestones _hurt_.

I was about to try to crawl out of the way, when a wand came directly into my range of vision. "_Avada_ –"

"_Depulso!_" The man who was about to curse me went flying out of the way.

"How _dare_ you?" Mum screamed. I could only stare. Gone was the ghost-like mother I had known for all of my life. In her place was a woman with heart-of-flame-blue eyes, and wild gold hair, her face twisted with fury. "Leave my daughter _alone!_"

She was like an avenging angel – all fire and fury. I could only sit on the ground and gape, as _my mum_ took out the attackers like they were bits of fairy floss, floating in the air.

Then, something gripped me by the neck, and tossed me into the air. Gasping for breath, I could only scream, as some spell hit me. It felt as if every part of my body was on fire, as if I was being slowly pulled apart.

"_**LILY!**_"

Mum's voice ripped across my consciousness, raw and full of agony. I felt a part of my heart cry along with her – that my sweet mum should _ever_ feel so agonized…

The world exploded. Distantly, I felt something hot and wet splatter my face.

Soft, gentle arms cradled me. "Lily, Lily, oh, my _baby_, Lily, please be okay, I couldn't _live_…"

I forced one aching eye open. "M-Mum?"

"Lily!"

I blacked out.

o

Later, I found out that my mum nearly killed anyone who tried to take me from her, until Aunt Ginny found a Healer.

Vaguely, I remember someone saying; "Now _that's_ Harry Potter's wife."

o

I bore the effects of that day with trouble. I had ended up with a horrible scar on the back of my neck that nothing could get rid of. But I saw another side of my mum, that day.

My mum was not just the slightly strange woman who kept to herself and fought the Ministry for the right to her daughter. My mum was a fierce, fiery, _fighter_. _Nothing_ could stand in her way, if she was thus inclined.

And after that day, my mum took out the photos. She began to talk about my dad, and I learned, not from books, but from my mother, about the eternally famous Harry Potter.

On September First, Mum kissed me goodbye, and stopped me before I boarded the train. "Lily," she began. Then she stopped. Her eyes widened. "Impossible…" she breathed.

I turned to look. It was Endy, walking through the smoke and steam of the crowded station. I waved. "Endy!"

Mum relaxed. "Ah," she said, as Endy drew close enough to hear. "Fred and Angelina's son? Owain?"

Endy grinned sheepishly. "They changed my name nine years ago. I'm Endymion Harris, now."

Mum nodded. "Ah, that's right." She grinned. "Chin up, Gryffindor."

Endy looked startled, but grinned back. "I'll see you on the train, Lily," he said, giving me a quick hug.

I watch bemusedly as he dashed off to find a compartment, when Mum tapped my shoulder. "Lily?"

I hugged her. "Yeah, Mum?" I mumbled into her shoulder. I wouldn't see her until _Christmas!_

I felt her smile against the top of my head. "I'll be proud of you," she whispered. "Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. Your father was nearly a Slytherin, and I chose Ravenclaw to honor my mother. Good luck, my Lily-love."

I tightened my hug. We had a few minutes left, after all.

"Lovegood-Potter, Lily Selene!"

Whispers swamped me.

"Is that _Loony Lovegood_'s daughter?"

"_The _Loony's daughter?"

"Loony –"

The Hat slipped over my head. _Well, well, hello little Potter._

I lifted my head. _Hello, Hat_.

_You would do well in Gryffindor, little Potter, fierce as a lion, just like your parents – _

_Ravenclaw._ I interrupted, as politely as possible. _Put me in Ravenclaw_.

The Hat did something that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. _You do know that more people will associate you with your mother, if I Sort you into Ravenclaw?_

My chin drew higher. _I know. Ravenclaw_.

_All right… If that's the way you want it…_

"_RAVENCLAW!"_

I removed the Hat, my face proud. Endy was clapping hard, and I waved to him. I hoped he got into Gryffindor, like my Dad.

Because I was proud to be the daughter of Luna Lovegood.

* * *

**AN:** Hehe... so... it drifted a bit away from the subject, but... d'you like?

REVIEWS? PLEASE? Do I need to cry? (Just kidding!) :)


	5. Hermione Granger

**Disclaimer:** I am in no way anyone who owns Harry Potter and surrounding and supporting characters and universe. In fact, my sister stole my set of books, so I don't even have that.

**AN: I am alive! To anyone who reads any of my other stories, I am AT WORK on them. There will be updates arriving, hopefully before American Thanksgiving. (Hopefully) In the meanwhile... **Canon until book 5, then, well, for now it is canon, but that is subject to change, depending on what happens next.

Also, something to note about this series of short point of view bits - they are powerfully Point of View! That means that each narrative is colored by personal prejudice and thought. In the case that anyone is confused,

Chapter One is about Sirius Black, told by Remus Lupin

Chapter Two is about Harry Potter, told by Hermione Granger

Chapter Three is about Remus Lupin, told Lily Evans (Potter)

Chapter Four is about Luna Lovegood, told by her daughter

And this chapter is about Hermione Granger, as told by Neville Longbottom

And, with no further ado,

* * *

**Introspection: Hermione Granger**

I was always jealous of her. Hermione, I mean. It was silly, yes, for a slightly chubby pureblood boy to be jealous of a strong, wild, bookish muggleborn. But I was.

I saw from the beginning, the way Harry Potter found being Ron Weasley's friend exhausting. The redhead had three tracks that played daily – eating, Quidditch, chess. Flip, repeat. Yes, I know about cassette tapes.

It wasn't that I wanted to be the friend of Harry Potter, _the_ Boy Savior. It was that I wanted to be friends with the slightly shy kid with horrible hair, huge glasses, and wrists too small for a proper watch. The kid who stood up to Malfoy for me, the kid who told me that I (me, Neville the Squib!) was worth twelve of Malfoy.

But Hermione, not me, became the third in what would be known in the future as "The Golden Trio."

She was very strong-minded, and believed in books to the point of her detriment. I still can't believe a girl with her brains fell for Lockhart, but, she always had a little too much respect for authority.

Fourth year, I had a small crush on her. Alright, a huge crush. She had grown, and her wild brown curls paired with a firm body built by lugging too many books was something for me, the unpopular boy, to dream about.

I even got up the courage to ask her to the Yule Ball.

Obviously, someone else saw her beauty first.

There died my crush.

I'm not sure I realized just how _linear_ she was, how _one-way-and-only-one-way_ she was, until the DA began. I mean, she had always tried tutoring me, because I was terribly behind, and I lost points for Gryffindor. But, it had never worked.

In the DA, I saw the two different ways one could learn, and I was startled by how different they were. Hermione taught like a normal teacher, "here is the problem, find the solution." She tried to get Harry to teach the DA like that.

He didn't.

Harry taught the DA "here is the solution, find the problem. Good, now find your way _from_ the problem _to_ the solution. Reverse it. Feel it." In comparison, Harry was like an orchestra in full concert, while Hermione was a determined, but steady, scale.

As the year drew to a close, I became more and more aware of the tightening stress on the bonds between the "Golden Trio." And then Sirius died.

I think, in that moment, something inside of Harry that had been struggling for so long to stay together had finally shattered. After that night, his face was so empty, so haunted.

Hermione noticed it. Of course she did. Hermione Granger was very good at noticing things, she always had been. It was responding to them that she didn't always understand, because Hermione was structured and by-the-book. If a book said it, it was true.

But Harry wasn't an experiment in a Self-Help book. All of Hermione's attempts were pushing him further and further away. Even Ginny noticed it.

"They think we're still children," she said bitterly, "And Hermione's actually willing to accept that."

I found that I spent a lot more of my time with Ginny, now, rather than trailing around behind the "Golden Trio." When I mentioned the silly moniker at one point, she had snorted, and said, "What does that make you, me, and Luna? The Silver Trio?"

Perhaps it was partly hysteria, but it took us a while to stop laughing.

"Besides," Ginny had said, slightly breathless, "Luna spends more time with Harry these days that Harry with Ron and Hermione."

And it was true.

Summer seemed to move oddly, fast and slow simultaneously. I sent letters to Ginny, and received novels back; I sent letters to Luna and received detached ramblings carted by foreign birds; I wrote to Harry and received shaky, uncertain replies.

I wondered, as summer drew to a close, did Hermione (Queen of Noticing, yes, I've read Doctor Doolittle,) notice the odd way that Harry wrote? Did she confront him, or ignore it?

September First was a Sunday, at the beginning of our sixth year. Sleepy-eyed and dodging muggles, we boarded the train.

I met Luna wandering the corridors, and it took little time to locate the rest of our group of six. Hermione's irritated voice was easily audible from quite a ways away.

Her strident tones stopped abruptly, but Ron's angry shouts were vocal beacons, and it took me and Luna only moments to find the right compartment and enter.

Sitting next to a window, looking irritated, Ginny beckoned us past Hermione and Ron. Sitting beside her, I wondered how it was that Ron was related to her. I mean, Ginny was an image of perfection, and Ron was… well… an arse.

Hermione was huffing. Something about Harry not being in contact all summer. Really, I couldn't understand that she didn't see. Harry looked… broken. As if something vital to his soul had been shattered.

I had always thought that Hermione was one of the smartest people I knew, but she resembled Mrs. Weasley in her self-centered fury. Puffed up and narrow-minded. She somehow managed to even be offended by Luna when the quiet blonde moved Hermione's book-bag and sat beside Harry!

She shut up her not-quiet sighs when Malfoy entered for his annual chat.

Malfoy sneered on and on, insulting Harry's parents, grandparents, and various relatives, along with their sexual habits. Through it all, I could feel Ginny tensing up beside me – even if Luna was somehow keeping Harry from ripping Malfoy's throat out, Ginny was becoming rather offended for Harry's sake.

Then, Malfoy made his biggest mistake – Hermione gasped, and Ron turned bright red – Malfoy mentioned Sirius Black, and insinuated that his death was a good thing.

To this day, I have never seen anyone move so fast. Harry seemed to just _move_, and his wand was out and down, flinging four spells forward with the ease that can only come from practice and natural capability.

Malfoy was out with the door slammed before the rest of us could blink. Oh, and he was wearing a tutu. Ginny and I had to fight to keep from laughing. Hermione, for some mysterious reason, looked even more upset than usual.

We were lucky, I guess – our Defense Professor seemed to be a normal human being with no plots to harm or kill any students. Hopefully.

The only problem was that he was the type of teacher who would have been wonderful in 1991. Now? Now, even _I_ was bored and not learning anything useful.

Harry took one look around the classroom, and made an easily readable decision. DA was back in business. As soon as our first Defense period finished, Harry passed me a note.

"_Pass the word on. RoR, Tonight, 8 pm._"

At lunch, I made sure to sit next to Ginny, so that I could tell her that the DA was back. Across the Hall, I saw Hermione shaking her head at Luna. Why?

I told Ginny about the DA. Grinning widely, she kissed my cheek and danced out of the Great Hall. It took me ages to remember how to move again.

That evening, I realized what Hermione had said to Luna – from the old members of the DA, there was nearly a full turnout – Chang and Smith and Edgecomb didn't come, obviously – but Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen.

I was so confused by that. It had been Hermione who had convinced Harry to create the DA in the first place. And now, she didn't come? I asked Luna what Hermione had said, and Luna had just shaken her head.

I got my Patronus on the first try, during our review. So did Ginny. Hers was different though, from what it was last year. Last year, it was a horse. Mine's still a lioness. Smith laughed, last year, but then Hermione told him that it was in fact, the lioness that fought and hunted.

Ginny's Patronus is a bear. I couldn't help but wonder why it changed.

After the DA meeting, Harry passed out golden medallions. They were Portkeys, he said, permanent Portkeys to the Chamber of Secrets. They would also return the wearer to wherever they were before use, on second use. On one side, the rune Sowilo was engraved, while on the other side was the rune Elhaz.

How could Harry have known how important those medallions would become – that they would be the beginning of a network within the Wizarding World.

Days grew into weeks, and Hermione Granger grew conspicuous in her absence from Harry's side. More often than not, it was as if she had utterly forgotten who it was who had saved her life several times over – who it was who had been the binding glue between Granger and Weasley.

I can remember the very day, to which I can point, that I lost my faith entirely in Hermione Granger. Despite her brilliance, and her potential for greatness, it was September 28th, 1996, that I realized that she had fallen from her pedestal in my mind.

She and Ronald Weasley kissed.

It seems so little, and you might even wonder if it was because of my old crush that I felt this way, but it was for another person entirely.

I will never forget the struck expression on Harry's face, when the two of them kissed. He had mentioned, only days prior, that he wished to perhaps make up with the two of them.

There was no hope, now.

I could only congratulate Ginny, and watch as Harry slipped out of the celebrations for our first Quidditch win.

Within the week, Harry had practically stopped spending any time with Gryffindor. He would smile weakly at me, or Ginny, but he wandered about Hogwarts beside the spindly blonde from Ravenclaw.

Mid-October, Ginny confided that she had caught Harry and Luna kissing.

Actually, what she did was stalk up to me, kiss me until I fell over, and _then_ told me that she was horny due to watching a certain couple in the library.

I couldn't believe how oblivious the rest of the world was – more specifically, the ever-proud Sixth-Year prefect, Hermione Granger. Harry spent his days in a daze, only seeming to wake when in Luna's presence.

Meanwhile, Granger and Weasley spent more and more time together, seemingly forgetting that Harry was once their best friend.

One evening, in the Common Room, raised voices drew all eyes to a small corner.

"I can do it myself!"

"It will be late, and I can help!"

And then –

"Bloody HELL, Granger, just STAY OUT OF MY WAY! I can do my OWN homework, and write my OWN essays! LEAVE ME **ALONE!**"

The slam of the portrait stunned us all for a moment, and Hermione stared after the vanished form of Harry Potter. She looked around, as if utterly clueless at what she had done. Ginny plopped down on my knees, and I kissed her neck absently.

How could Granger not see? First, she treated him like dirt, and now, as if he has no brain? It is no wonder that Harry got angry at her.

Feeling a prickle on my neck, I looked up to see her eyes on me. I rolled my eyes.

"You're losing him."

But she didn't seem to hear me.

I took Ginny to Hogsmeade, Halloween weekend. She and I wandered about, and I mused at how far we had come from our 'first date,' the Yule Ball. Through the window of the Three Broomstick, I could see Hermione and Ron talking and kissing.

When I pointed them out to Ginny, she gagged.

And then, right amidst the sunny and cheerful afternoon, Death Eaters attacked.

We all fought – even Hermione and Ron – but it was easy to tell who was DA and who was not. The DA was clearly at advantage, crushing the Death Eaters, and popping in and out with the injured.

Only breaths later, it seemed, it was all over. The Aurors and teachers had arrived.

I saw Granger leaning against a fallen wall, looking utterly exhausted. Maybe, _now_ she would rejoin the DA.

I followed her line of sight, and saw Harry kneeling at the body of one of the few casualties. He was bleeding, and brushing ineffectually at the dead girl's face, as if to heal her, somehow.

Luna stumbled past me, and stopped behind Harry, putting her hand on his shoulder. Leaning forward, she murmured in his ear.

"Sowilo, love. My Sol."

Harry stood slowly, and fell into Luna's arms like a small child.

That evening, they missed dinner, but the Grey Lady informed me that they had been spotted by the Room of Requirement.

I spread the word that the DA shouldn't go there for the night.

Autumn fell into winter, and snow cloaked the castle and grounds. It lit a candle in everyone's hearts to see Harry and Luna rolling about in the snow, playing some game that made sense only to them.

Despite Luna's previously mentioning at trip to Sweden for Christmas, they both stayed at Hogwarts over break. Granger begged and pleaded, alongside her boyfriend, but Harry refused to leave Hogwarts.

One evening in February, after the DA meeting, Harry pulled me aside.

"Neville," he rasped, his voice strange from a mix of shouting and disuse. "How have you been?"

I stared at him. "Fine," I replied. "I'm going out with Ginny." _Inane comment_, I thought to myself. Harry has a personal conversation for the first time in ages, and I talk about my girlfriend?

Pathetic.

But Harry just smiled. "Yes, congratulations." A lock of hair fell into his eyes. "Listen, can you get Hermione off my back?"

I blinked. "What?"

"She's been bugging me about my visions, and about –" Harry stopped abruptly, but I got the message.

"I'll see what I can do."

For the rest of the school year, I used every last bit of cunning I had to distract the Gryffindor Ravenclaw. I grew irritated with her tenaciousness, and stunned by her determination. Hermione had the ability to focus on one thing, and one thing only, and never turn away.

In a way, I admired that. In a way, I hated it.

Eventually, the school year drew to a close. The ride to London was eerily quiet. We were all wary of an attack from the Death Eaters, and were relieved when the train pulled into King's Cross.

As we all went our separate ways, Ginny pulled me into a long kiss. "To keep from seeing Ron kiss _her_," she murmured, as we pulled apart.

I frankly couldn't blame her.

I couldn't hold back a wistful smile, though, as Harry stood on tiptoe to kiss Luna goodbye.

The look on Hermione's face was amusing, also – she looked as if someone had smacked her.

I saw none of them, over the summer, although a note had come from Ginny through Muggle post, just mentioning that Professor Lupin had died, and that Ron and Hermione were absolutely sickening.

But summer ended, as all summers do, and we soon found our way back on the Hogwarts Express.

I sat with Ginny and Harry's trunk – Harry was too busy pacing the corridors. He was like a panther, all dark and stormy as he prowled. Hermione had attempted to speak to him, and given up. I wondered where her Gryffindor heart had gone.

Even Malfoy avoided Harry.

We pulled into Hogsmeade station around eight, and Harry continued to carry storm clouds over his head. We entered the Great Hall, and somehow managed to seat Harry between myself and Ginny.

Then, suddenly – Chaos.

Death Eaters poured into the room, and we were all drawn into the fight. I watched and fought simultaneously, throwing vicious spells that Harry had cautioned us to only use in just such a situation. But just when the tide was beginning to turn in our favor, and voice sent silence across the Hall.

"Harry Potter."

Voldemort had entered Hogwarts.

Harry hurtled into a duel with his mortal enemy. Sword in his left hand, and wand in his right, it was vision of awing inspiration.

But Voldemort was more experienced, and soon had removed Harry's wand and sword from the equation.

Luna cried out – when had she gotten here? – "_**Harry!**_"

And Harry lifted both hands, and began to fight. Wandless.

Roaring, I took over Harry's previous opponent, Bellatrix, barely noticing as Luna calmly dispatched Lucius Malfoy, Rodulphus Lestrange, and Rabastan Lestrange. Ginny destroyed someone named Carrow with a ferocious shriek, before blowing up their brother and vaporizing Umbridge.

An explosion of blue light stopped all of the fighting, and suddenly, all eyes were focused on the main duel – Harry and Voldemort.

Harry spat a Parseltongue spell, and green light enveloped both fighters – Voldemort screamed in agony. Streams of purple light flowed in every direction, and the green light turned silver.

Silence.

Like a slowed Pensieve memory, Voldemort toppled to the ground.

Those Death Eaters that were still alive, collapsed.

Harry dropped to his knees, and smiled, his eyes blank and unseeing.

"_HARRY!_"

Luna blasted through the piles of destruction, her eyes wild. I had never seen her so focused, so intent, in all the years I had known her. Tumbling beside Harry, Luna stroked his hair, ignoring her own injuries.

At that moment, as Harry lifted a hand to touch her cheek and murmur something, I was struck by how tiny he was. I felt my heart thundering in my chest, as Harry stirred, and grew still.

Across the Hall, Hermione Granger gasped, and fell to the ground. Ginny moaned, and struggled over to me, hugging me tightly. But it was Luna's response that told us exactly what had occurred.

She tilted her head, ignoring the blood and tears that painted her face, and opened her mouth. Her scream was silent, but the agony was loud enough to be heard by even the most deaf of men.

At the funeral, Luna held a bundle of black – the reason she had not been on the train.

This, though it pained us all, was a turning point for many. I asked Ginny to marry me. Padma Patil definitively split from her twin. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger broke up.

Hermione placed her Head Girl badge in Harry's grave.

It was a turn for the better, for her, I think. She never became a part of the DA, but she was our liaison, you might say. She visited Harry's grave every year, and used the money left to her from him to build a tiny bookstore. _Harry's Haven_, she called it.

On the anniversary of Harry's death, in 2003, Hermione sent an urgent note to me and Ginny, one that cemented her turn from selfishness, in our eyes.

_To Harry's Vanguard – Scrimgeour and Flint have ordered Tsuki unfit as a guardian for Sowilo's flower. Hurry_.

Thanks to the message, we managed to save Luna from the first of many attempts to take Lily Selene Potter from her mother.

In 2009, Hermione Granger married a muggle, and left our world, permanently, after selling her bookshop to WWW Ltd.

I never saw her again. My memories of her were mixed, filled with negatives and positives, but overall, I remember her as well-intentioned and bull-headed.

In short, Hermione Granger.

* * *

**AN:** There you go. Also, I have finished the sequel to _Out of Place_; it is called _Purple Snowflakes_.


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